


Remember Me

by rosymamacita



Category: The 100, The 100 (TV)
Genre: 6 Year Time Jump, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Bellarke, F/M, Roommates, his last memory is before she left for six years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-02 14:26:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15798399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosymamacita/pseuds/rosymamacita
Summary: Bellamy has lost 6 years of his life to terrible car accident and amnesia. His last memory is one night with Clarke before she left him to study across the country. They have barely talked in those six years, both moved on from a love that never got to be. Only now, he needs someone. And Clarke is there. She'll always be there for him.And she takes him into her home, because he's her Bellamy, even if she isn't his Clarke.Only Bellamy from six years ago thinks that she is, actually, his Clarke. And he doesn't believe her when she says she isn't.





	1. Hey

**Author's Note:**

> I got a prompt to reverse the amnesia trope. It's supposed to be funny. Instead of forgetting their relationship, he remembers having one that they never had.  
> But I apparently can't do tropes without figuring out how it might realistically work, and then it gets all angsty and i have to world build. 
> 
> I do, however, know nothing about amnesia, and not much about treating it. She's a therapist, but let's just say this isn't a story about psychology and handwave all that stuff, mmkay?

“Hey…” Clarke watched as Bellamy’s eyes fluttered open. She was so relieved to see him awake, she couldn’t help but smile, even though he was pale, his head bandaged, bruised, and he was lying in a hospital bed. 

“Hey…” he said back, his voice soft. His eyes soft. His smile… soft. 

Clarke’s heart flipped over. He hadn’t looked at her like that in so long. She squeezed his fingers that had been too limp in her hand the entire twenty minutes she’d been waiting for him to wake up. She swallowed heavily. “How’re you feeling, Bellamy?”

The smile broke open and dazzled her. “Better now that you’re here.” Then he grasped her hand and pulled her in. He wasn’t weak at all. She overbalanced and fell on top of him.

“S-sorry—“ she started.

“What for?” He grinned from way too close to her and tangled his other hand in the nape of her hair and pulled her in for a kiss.

She gasped and he deepened the kiss. 

She let the excuse of her surprise be the reason why she didn’t pull away. She let that be it, instead of how scared she’d been when her mom called her in, saying that Bellamy had been in a bad car accident, and it seemed he had amnesia. Instead of the loss that cut through her heart when she thought she’d lost him. Lost him for real. Lost him for good. Not just lost his friendship like she had six years ago. Even though he was right here. He wasn’t hers but she was just so glad he was alive, so she kissed him back.

“M-mom?”

Clarke jumped back. 

Madi stood in the doorway, staring at Clarke on top of Bellamy. KISSING him. Her eyes were as big as saucers, and a grin started spreading on her face. 

“I… uh…” she looked back at Bellamy looking for some reason for why she would be kissing him in a hospital bed.

He was smiling broadly. Amazed. “We have a daughter?”

“What?” Clarke blinked. They did not have a daughter. 

Abby pushed in the door behind Madi. “Wait in the hall, Madi,” she said, assessing the situation. She did not find it as amusing as Madi did. Madi rolled her eyes but left. Abby closed the door behind her and turned back to them, with her doctor face on. “I told you, there’s been some significant memory loss. Six years.” 

“I can’t believe I forgot we have a daughter.” Bellamy’s voice was awed. He was still holding her hand. His smile faded. “I don’t remember anything. I don’t remember getting married, or you being pregnant.” He blinked. “I don’t remember MY DAUGHTER.”

The sorrow on his face broke her. Clarke didn’t know what to do. This was not just memory loss. He thought they had a daughter together? 

“Wait. She’s not six years old. Ten years? Twelve years? Longer? Have I lost twelve years of my life?”

Abby stepped forward, grim, getting ready to explain it to him again, like she had explained it to him when he first woke up, not remembering the last six years of his life. Clarke stepped in front of her.

“Mom, no. Can I talk to him?”

Bellamy was clinging to her hand now. “I know. It’s 2018. I remember up to 2012. I lost six years. Not twelve. I don’t understand.” He shook his head as if to clear it.

“I’ll be back later with the specialist to talk to him. He should be ready to take home after his consultation.”

Clarke nodded, and chewed her lip, fighting back tears as Abby left. The door swung and Clarke sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand on both of hers.

“I want to go home Clarke,” he said and then his brows creased. 

“You won’t be going home, Bellamy. There’s no one there to take care of you. You’ve been staying in your sister’s apartment while she’s traveling. You’ll be coming home with me.”

“What? That’s what I meant. What do you mean? Why is your home not mine? Why am I not living with my family? Did we break up?” He brought her hand up to look at it. “You’re not wearing a ring. Are we divorced?” He let out a breath. Shock.

“Bellamy…” she didn’t know how to begin. “Bellamy, Madi is not your daughter.”

He shook his head no, ready to argue, then raised his eyebrows. “She’s adopted. She’s way older than 6…. Or 5 she’d have to be if we had her, naturally.”

“Yes, she’s adopted,” his face lightened, the mystery solved. “But she’s my daughter, not yours.”

“Not mine?” He stared at her. “I would never let you raise a child on your own, I would be with you…I wouldn’t leave you.”

A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye, but she was holding onto his hand too tight to wipe it away. “You didn’t. We were never together, Bellamy.”

He laughed. Just a small one. His smile was back. He brushed the tear away with a finger. “Come on,” he said, like it was a big joke. “Impossible. Don’t mess with the guy who nearly died.”

A laugh broke from her mouth, but it might have been a sob. She let out her breath and turned to face him more firmly. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

He didn’t answer for a while. Staring off into space.

“If it’s too hard, we can wait.”

“No, I want to. We were fighting.”

She snorted. “That tracks.” They always fought. Even when they were best friends, nearly inseparable. Roommates.

He cocked his head at her. “We were fighting because you were leaving. To go to California for your masters program. I wanted you to stay.”

Clarke swallowed. It had broken her heart. 

“I was trying to tell you that I loved you.”

She closed her eyes because she couldn’t look at him. She had thought that was what he was trying to tell her, that day.

“You wouldn’t let me. You kissed me.” His hand went slack in hers. “To shut me up. And it worked. We made love…” his words trailed off. She could see the memories on his face. See how vivid they were, as if they had just happened. His pale face flushed and his eyes swept over her as if he could see her naked in his bed, the way she’d been when she tried to have that little bit of him, keep just that, before she left. She saw when he remembered. The pain that went through his whole body. He finally pulled his hand out of hers. “When I woke up you were gone. Gone. To catch the plane. You left me.”

For him it was just yesterday. For her it was six years ago. And it still felt like yesterday. “That’s your last memory?” Her broken laugh was not funny. “That sucks.”

“You left me a note. It said. “I’ll miss you. C.”

“Oh. THAT’S your last memory. That’s worse. Tell me there’s something else in that head of yours.”

“C.”

His last memory was a note. That she’d signed, “C.”

The silence stretched. She didn’t know how to fill it. She didn’t know how to explain the last 6 years to him. She didn’t know how to go through that again.

“I don’t remember anything after that. Waking up. The doctors. I had a lot of tests. It was confusing. They said six years. I do remember that. And then there you were. And I kissed you….” His face fell. “Oh. Sorry. I thought…but we’re not. And Madi is not mine.”

“Does it make it any better to know you didn’t forget having a daughter?”

He shot an angry look at her. 

“I’m sorry. I was still listed as one of your emergency contacts, so when they realized your sister was out of the country, they called me.”

“…And you came.”

Clarke winced. This was more like their relationship since she’d come home. This suspicion. “Of course I a came. I’ll always come for you, you’re my…” She didn’t know how to end that sentence.

“I’m your what, Clarke? You’re not my wife. You’re not my ex. You’re not my girlfriend?” It was like he was testing the waters with his words. “What am I to you?”

You’re my Bellamy, she had wanted to say. “You’re my friend,” she said. And it felt like a lie. 

He narrowed his eyes at her. Even, now, six years later, with amnesia, and he could still read her.

“I wouldn’t have left you. But you left me. What happened after you left,” he said.

“Well,” she started. Getting settled. This she had prepared for. “It was your second year teaching high school history, so you went back to work. It was in a few weeks, but, you know, you always like to prepare. So, I’m sure you did a lot of that. And you focused on that for a while—“

“No. Not what happened at work. What happened with us.”

“I went to school in LA. It was… it was school. I really wanted to. It felt like I had to do it. And I was running this group therapy session for kids in foster care and I met Madi, and bonded and she was in a rotten situation… and I don’t know. It felt like… I don’t know. I was lonely. She needed me. I took her in. We’ve been together ever since.”

“You were lonely? Was LA that bad? You still had me. Why didn’t you call me? I would have come out. I wouldn’t let you be so lonely.”

“Bellamy, I—“ She gaped at him, not knowing what to say. “I don’t think this is the right time to rehash the past.”

He shook his head. “It’s not the past for me Clarke. I love you. I’m in love with you. To me it’s now.”

Her heart was in her throat. How could she tell him that he didn’t feel that way about her anymore.

“It’s been six years. I’m still a teacher?”

She nodded. “You’re on medical leave right now. Madi, uhm, Madi goes to your school. So, she can keep you up to date on your gossip. Expect that. The long term sub is, according to her, ‘no Bellamy.’” She laughed. 

The muscle in his jaw flexed and he shook his head, short and sharp. Even now, he could still tell when she was avoiding stuff.

“Right. And you have a daughter. And we’re not together. But I’m going to be living with you, because I need someone to care for me?”

She nodded.

“So we’re still friends. Roommates, again?”

Clarke pushed down the flutter of nerves. She hadn’t been roommates with him for six years, and she’d had to get three thousand miles away from him to deal with her feelings for him six years ago. And she wasn’t sure if she’d ever really put them to rest.

“But you’re back from LA. You got your masters, I assume.”

She nodded. That was easier. “PhD, actually.”

“PhD. That’s great. I’m proud of you…” she knew he wasn’t done. “Did you come back for your PhD or did you…” 

“I stayed there. It was a great program.”

“I know. That’s why you felt you had to go. Or so you told me. And you promised you’d come back.” His eyes flicked to hers, suspicious. Then he sat up. “But you didn’t come back…” his jaw went slack. “What another four years? You were gone five years?”

“Uhm… yes. A bit more. I had let Madi finish elementary. I’ve only been back for a few months.”

“You really did leave me.” He said it slowly. Testing it. “Six years?”

Clarke couldn’t look at him anymore. She didn’t want to tell him what had happened when she left. She didn’t want to tell him how she had lost him completely. It wasn’t fair that she had to live it over again. 

“I didn’t leave you. I went to school. You moved on, Bellamy. We were just roommates. We had one night. Because I wanted…” she bit it off. “You weren’t going to pine over me forever.”

“No. There’s no way.”

She laughed. She had gotten over this. She had. She had a life now. She was happy. Damn him. She looked at him, finally getting ready to… tell him to fuck off like she used to. Like they had only just started to get back to before he… almost died. And there he was, his eyes so warm, his face so hurt. The bandage stark against his black and blue skin. She couldn’t blow him off. He’d lost his life. Six years of his life. She had to tell him the truth. So she did, even though it still hurt. “You stopped taking my calls. You refused to answer my emails. You didn’t want me to come back.”

“What? No.”

“Yes. I shouldn’t have slept with you. It was the wrong thing to do. I realize that now. It was selfish, and then I left. I hurt you and I’m sorry. I will always regret it.”

“I don’t regret it.”

She laughed. He was breaking open all her old wounds and it wasn’t fair. They had all moved on. She had WORKED on letting him go. And it had been so hard to come home, and have to work to have him trust her again. And he didn’t. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t let her in. It took months before he could even look at her when they were out with their friends, and that was mostly because of Raven and Murphy and Emori. He’d only JUST agreed to come over to her place for movie night with Madi last month, and only because Madi begged and it had been her birthday. 

And then he’d gotten hurt. He’d almost died. Bellamy didn’t remember, but she did, and she wouldn’t let him lose his life to this accident. “Bellamy. I hurt you and I left. And, uhm, you didn’t want to talk to me again. Raven made me stop texting you. She said you needed me to leave you alone so that you could get over me.”

“Well I’m not over you.”

“You are. About three years ago, maybe four, I’m not sure, you started dating Echo.”

“Echo? No. Not possible. I hate her.”

“No. You love her. Or you did. I’m not sure of the timeline because it’s not like anyone kept me informed of your love life. Our friends sided with you, and I didn’t blame them. You were still here and I wasn’t. Raven took over my apartment, but eventually you moved out and moved in with Echo.”

“Uh. No.”

“What do you mean, no? You have amnesia. You don’t remember. Believe me. You fell in love with Echo and moved in with her.”

“I mean, no. They told me I was living in Octavia’s apartment alone, and they wouldn’t release me until I had someone to live with. Which is, I assume, why you’re here. You’re who I’m living with.”

Clarke took a breath to dispute him. But he was right. 

“You already said, you’re taking me home with you.”

It was unfair that he had brain damage and he was still so sharp. She felt off balance.

“So whatever I had with ‘Echo’” he said the name as if he didn’t believe it, “Is over now. When did it end? Why?”

“I don’t know. It was before I came back. She wasn’t coming around much after I moved back into the apartment and Raven moved in with Zeke.” She let out a frustrated huff. “You’re going to have to talk to them about what you’ve missed. I wasn’t here.”

“They why am I not moving in with them? Murphy and Emori? Monty and Harper?” 

“Monty and Harper moved to Australia. Murphy and Emori have a tiny studio. Raven and Zeke… Bellamy, they’re new. Just moved in together, I didn’t want them to—and you wouldn’t either. I’ve got two rooms. You’re familiar with it. And I’m the psychotherapist. I’m the best person to take care of you.” She felt guilt at that. She might be the person with the most credentials, but she had the feeling she was claiming something she didn’t have the right to claim. 

“So we are going home.” His voice startled her. She’d been silent a while.

“To my home.”

“But it’s the same place. It was my home. We lived there. Together. It’s home.”

She wanted to say no. But it was. And it was the last home he remembered. “I don’t know if it’s the best place for you to go. How are you going to remember your life if you go back to the place you lived before your amnesia?”

He smiled. Her stomach fluttered.

“I should take you back to Octavia’s, but she’s only got a one bedroom. I can’t have all three of us living in a one bedroom. It would be the best, but it’s just not reasonable.”

“Madi will live with us?”

Why was he smiling?

“Of course. She’s my daughter.”

“No. That’s good. I want to get to know… your daughter.” 

Clarke narrowed her eyes at him, but she couldn’t quite get a hold of what he was getting at. “I’m taking a leave of absence from the practice. I only have a couple of regular clients right now but I’ve gotten others to cover my groups. And my clinical trials are on hiatus. So, I’ll be there to take care of you.”

“Lucky me.”

There it was again. He was planning something. But he couldn’t be. He’d just been in an traumatic accident.

“Bellamy. I’m here because you’re my friend. And that has not changed. You need me, and I’m here. Okay? Whatever happened six years ago, or in those years in between, none of that matters. What matters is you’re coming home with me, and we’ll take care of you. Okay?”

He laughed again. Smiling.

“Why are you smiling. You’ve been in a horrible wreck and have amnesia and have to come live with someone you barely know.”

He smiled wider. “Oh I know you Clarke.”

“No. You know me from six years ago.”

“Yeah.” He said, and bit his lip. And laughed again.


	2. Re-Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke takes Bellamy home after his amnesia and it's the place he remembers from 6 years ago... which was last week to him. But it's not at all.
> 
> Facing the changes and the things that happened that he doesn't remember and the things that didn't change at all.... it's an adjustment.

Bellamy walked into Clarke’s apartment with a profound sense of oddity. What was so odd was that it was supremely NOT odd. The building was the same, the two flights of stairs and the marble tile, the door had new paint chips in it. That was the first sign that it was different. That six years really had passed. He ran his fingers along the scratch. Maybe he had put it there. He didn’t remember. He huffed a laugh and she smiled at him.

And when Clarke opened the door, her key ring was different. There was a jingle and a little puppet hanging off of it. Clarke noticed him staring. He didn’t know why he fixated on such a little thing. But he remembered her keys. There was nothing silly about them. A brass tag from her college, and a half dozen keys. Now They were filled with things. Glittery, jingly things. 

Clarke held it up. “An elf on the shelf. When I got Madi, she was only 8. I tried to do the elf on the shelf thing for her first Christmas but it creeped her out and I had to tell her that it was really just me moving the elf, not some weird creature crawling around while she was asleep. So next Christmas, she got me the elf on the shelf key ring.”

Clarke’s cheeks went red and he realized he was staring at her.

“Sorry, I know it’s stupid. Old me never would have carried an ugly elf thing on a key chain. Because Madi’s right. It’s creepy.”

“No. It’s adorable.”

Clarke threw him a disbelieving look.

“I mean not the creepy elf dude. The story. You’re really a mom.” It was not that he couldn’t believe it. She had always been the kind of person to take care of people, to be responsible. It was that she’d gone and done it. She’d lived that life. And he wanted that for her. 

He ducked his head so she didn’t see. See how much he’d wanted that with her. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t gotten it. It was impossible to believe, because he knew, he KNEW that Clarke was the one for him. And he was the one for her. Then he had to look away. Maybe he was the creepy one. Maybe she really had moved on and he was just… stuck in the past. 

“Welcome,” she said, as she swung the door open and stood there, awkwardly. “Welcome… home.” 

He stepped in. Looked around. It was the same view of the tree tops and brownstones across the way. The same room and afternoon light. But everything else was just slightly different. It was the same basic layout, tv, couch, tables, with his favorite recliner still in the corner, but the couch was one of those big sectionals instead of the old beaten up floral thing that he used to nap on. The side tables were wooden instead of metal. There was an oriental rug, instead of bare wood. And the paintings were all different. He walked around, trying to get his bearings. 

“This one I know,” he stopped at a small painting Clarke had done when they lived together. They’d taken a picnic to the roof and she sat there and painted the skyline while he read The Iliad.

Clarke inhaled deeply. “I’ve carried that painting with me wherever I’ve gone. It’s my favorite.” 

He looked at it. He wanted to stare at it, honestly. It was something he remembered but also something that made him… feel things. He wasn’t sure what. He turned to look at the other paintings.

“Did you do these others, too? They are your style. They look like you, but I don’t recognize any of them.” Landscapes. Figures. Silhouettes and shadows. Some of them had words on them, like graffiti.

“Painting relaxes me. Centers me. It’s like a journal almost. I never stopped painting.”

“I don’t keep a journal. Or I didn’t. Huh. Maybe I started one in the last six years.”

“You doidn’t. That was one of the things they asked us. If you had journals to remind you of things.”

“Too bad.” He turned around, slowly, and looked at the painting lining the walls. Ones he’d never seen. “You’ve had a whole life that I know nothing about.” It hit him. It really hit him. This was real. He lost his life. She had moved on. And where was he? “So have I.”

“Hey?” She came up to him, peering into his face. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I guess. It’s just a lot. I felt like I was coming home, but this is… this isn’t the home I knew.”

She didn’t touch him but he felt her want to touch him. She settled for standing in front of him, firm and sure. “Listen to me, Bellamy. This is your home for as long as you want it.”

He winced. “You think I don’t want to make my home with you.”

She rose her chin. Pride. Pain, he wasn’t sure? It wasn’t a gesture he was used to from her. “When your memory comes back, I don’t…I don’t know if you’ll want to. A lot of things happened. But you don’t remember them. The doctor believes your amnesia is probably temporary, and even if some of it never does come back, you should be able to resume your life as it was. We can figure it out as we go. But if you ever feel like you can’t— or don’t want to stay here, we’ll find a way to make it work.”

Bellamy had to sit down. He went to his recliner. “You kept it.”

Clarke snorted. “I don’t know how that thing ever fit into this apartment. With all the people who’ve lived here, no one’s ever been able to fit it out the door. It stays. The rest of us come and go.”

“And now you and I are back?”

“You and I and Madi.”

“Right.”

“You want some water? Ice Tea?”

“Can I have something stronger?”

She made a face. “No. You’re still on painkillers.”

“Well I’m feeling no pain. I don’t know what I feel.”

“Hey,” she said. She came over to him and knelt down at his knees. Put her hand on his on the armrest of the big ugly recliner, but still didn’t touch him. “You don’t have to push yourself. You have all the time in the world to figure out how you feel and what’s going on.”

Her eyes were so blue and honest. So direct. Her blonde hair falling out of her pony tail to wisp into her face. He FELT her. Like a part of him. He couldn’t believe he’d lost her. She was right here. But six years ago, she’d left, and he couldn’t believe it, but he apparently had wanted her to be gone. He had stopped taking her calls. It didn’t make any sense. Not when he knew what he wanted was to be with her always. That was the only thing that felt true. Clarke. That he loved Clarke. 

And six years ago, he lost her. He wasn’t going to let that happen again.

 

**** . **** . **** . 

 

“I got up to go to my room and open the door, and I’m, like, in some teen girl’s room. Stuffed animals everywhere. Peace signs. Twin beds. Robin’s egg blue everything. Posters of some dude singer, I don’t know have you ever heard of Shawn Mendes?”

Murphy swallowed his beer and shook his head. “No, who’s that?”

“Okay, good. I thought it was some big star I should know about. Madi was offended that I had never heard of him, but I had a sister. I know that they have these teen things that no one else has a clue about. So it’s not just my broken head. It’s just a teenybopper thing.”

Murphy shrugged and grabbed a handful of chips. At least Murphy was still the same old asshole he always knew. It felt good. “But meanwhile, you thought you were sleeping in a kids room.”

“I was getting ready to settle in there. I mean. Who am I to complain? It’s six years later. Why did I think it would still be my room?”

“Because that’s the room you slept in last week—to you. Six years ago was last week. I don’t blame you.” Maybe Murphy had changed a bit. He wasn’t nearly as caustic as he used to be. Bellamy hoped he hadn’t changed too much, because he was depending on some of Murphy’s truth telling. Everyone else he knew was protecting him. He knew it. Treating him like he was invalid. And sure, maybe the world didn’t quite make sense to him anymore, but he was still him. And he needed to know what happened.

“Clarke and Madi are sharing it.” Bellamy took a sip of his own beer. “Madi’s room. Clarke is taking the other twin bed.” He waited for Murphy to comment.

Murphy did not. He drained his bottle then went to the kitchen. Bellamy heard the refrigerator open and the clink of more bottles. “You want?” He called.

Bellamy snorted. “Yeah.” Then he downed the last half of his bottle. Murphy was more delicate than before. Definitely. Murphy popped open the bottles and then came back, clunking Bellamy’s in front of him and then settling back in the recliner, kicking the footrest out and taking a long swig. “So you’re telling me that you’re sleeping in Clarke’s bed.”

Bellamy nodded. “Yes.”

“And she’s not in it.”

“Correct.” 

“How did that happen?”

He could answer that many ways and he mulled it over while he took a deep swallow. The beer was cold and hoppy and he thought he could use a whiskey to go along with it, but Clarke didn’t want him drinking anything too strong. The six pack that Murphy brought wasn’t going to help with anything. His tolerance was fantastic. He must have been drinking pretty regularly before he lost his memory to not even feel a buzz. “We’re just friends.”

Murphy scoffed and rolled his head in Bellamy’s direction. “That is complete bullshit. You two have never been ‘just friends.’”

“Yeah, well, we’re not together so that doesn’t matter, does it?”

Murphy pushed the footrest down and leaned forward. “So it’s all just right there on the surface huh? Like she never left at all. You’re just madly in love with her. None of the last six years happened for you? You ready for her to break your heart all over again?”

Bellamy leaned forward, too. He was ready to… he didn’t even know. Because he didn’t know. “What happened?”

“Ah shit.” He stood up and began pacing. “Did you fucking wait to get me alone to dig it out of me?”

Yes. Yes he had. “That’s what you all get for trying to babysit me. Taking me around to witness the last six years of as if I was a tourist in my own life. What was today? My Top Ten Movies 2012-2018? Sports Highlights Reels? They wouldn’t leave anything sensitive to you. What was on the agenda for today?”

“Fuck. I told them. I told them that if you asked me I would tell you. They told me to keep it to fun stuff. Just shooting the shit.”

“They who?”

“The girls, who do you think?”

He ground his teeth. “Clarke?”

He snorted a laugh. “Yeah right. No. I’m not allowed to say anything to her about what happened to you after she left, either.”

“Who told you not to tell Clarke?”

“You did, you asshole. You threatened to kill me if I told Clarke about what a mess you were. Raven threatened to torture me if I make you relive what a mess you were. And Emori threatened to never sleep with me again if I don’t do what Raven says. What am I supposed to do, here?”

“Clarke doesn’t know.”

“No Clarke doesn’t know. You iced her out. Closed the door on her. I told you to call her. I told you to talk to her. And you said she made her choice, so that was it. You were a fucking moron and you never got over her.”

“I’m still in love with her.” It wasn’t what Murphy had said, but he knew it. 

“Of course you’re still in love with her. You’ll never not be in love with her. Do you think you would have been such an asshole to her when she came back if you weren’t still in love with her?”

He let out a breath he’d been holding all week since moving in with Clarke and Madi. “Thank god.”

“Thank GOD? You are one fucked up dude.”

“No. No. I knew it. I knew I wouldn’t feel like this if I had really gotten over her. I thought maybe I was pretending to move on. I didn’t feel like I had moved on. All my dreams. They all have her in them. I never dream of Echo. If I had loved Echo, shouldn’t I be dreaming of her? But I don’t. It’s like she was completely erased from my life. That’s not right. Everyone says I was in love with Echo. I mean, I moved in with her. I must have been thinking about something permanent to do that. But all those feelings, how can they just disappear like that?”

“Oh. About that. That might have been my fault.”

“What? How do my feelings for Echo… or lack thereof.. Have anything to do with you?”

“Well… I broke up with Emori, and she moved in with you and Raven… here… and so you gave her your room and moved in with Echo.”

Bellamy shook his head. “I don’t get how I went from hating Echo to planning a life with her. She was Octavia’s, like sworn enemy. She almost got her thrown in jail, she screwed us over so many times over that stupid neighborhood turf war. And then I started playing house?”

“Oh my god. I almost forgot about that. The fight over what to do with that landmark building. It’s a community center, dude. The grand opening was like, three years ago. You mentor kids there. Echo coaches soccer. That’s how you started being friends.”

“No way Octavia would let her coach soccer. That’s her game.”

“Octavia taught martial arts. That was their compromise. And we all joined a league. The girls kind of adopted her into the group.”

“But not you?”

“Eh, she’s okay. I mostly just snipe from the sidelines.”

“That tracks. But how did I fall in love with her?”

“Eh. That’s one way to describe it.”

“You don’t think I was in love with her?”

“Dude. Do you remember what she looks like or was that wiped out of your memory, too? She is one of the hottest women alive.”

“Clarke is hot.”

“And Clarke wasn’t here. But Echo was. And she wanted you bad. For a long time. And you didn’t hate her anymore. And Raven and Emori and Harper wanted you to go out with her. Even Monty wanted you to. They thought she would be good for you.”

“But you didn’t.”

He shrugged. “I thought you needed to get laid.” He sat back down.

“I didn’t get laid after Clarke left?” Had he really just waited around for her?

“Nah, you got laid, but just random flings. But Echo was there. And she wanted to be there for you. Okay yeah, I guess I thought she would be good for you too but not like moving in together good. Like having fun together good. She’s a cool girl but not that… deep.”

“Deep.”

“That’s the thing that gets you. That… thing.”

“Deepness.” Bellamy rolled his eyes

Murphy was unimpressed. “Clarke.” 

Bellamy sighed. “I can’t explain it. I just feel it.”

“Mmhm. Yeah. I get it. But there you were, just having fun with Echo, and you were happy man, I’m not gonna lie. I don’t think you’d ever just had fun like that. It was good for you and I was glad to see you like that. But when Emori and I broke up and she moved in here, you did that whole self sacrifice thing, and gave up your place because I was a jerk to her.”

“What a surprise. You were a jerk.”

“And you were a self sacrificing moron. Same old same old. You fucking moved in with Echo because she loved you and you thought you should love her the same way and she wanted you to and you liked spending time with her but you were never that committed to her. You were never thinking of her like your future.”

“Nobody has explained this. Nobody. How do you know I didn’t love her? Everybody else says I did and I just don’t remember it at all. I don’t feel anything for her but… annoyance. She was such a bitch. If I loved her, then some of that should still be there, right? Some part of my soul. Not my stupid brain.”

“You dumb fuck. Because as soon as you found out Clarke was moving back home, you broke up with Echo and moved into your sister’s place. The minute she told Raven she was even looking for a job out here, you and Echo were over.”

“I did that?”

“You sure the hell did.”

“What a prick.”

“No shit. Why do you think Echo doesn’t come around anymore. Why do you think she didn’t check on you after the accident.” 

“Oh. She hasn’t been around. If she loved me. She’d be around.”

“You broke her heart and she feels like an idiot. Because she knew about Clarke the whole time. And everyone warned her. But she thought she’d waited long enough and put in enough time that you’d get over Clarke and fall in love with her.”

“And I didn’t.”

“Sorry.”

“Wow. I should probably talk to her.”

“What are you going to tell her? That your entire relationship with her was wiped out of your head and you’re head over heels in love with the girl who left you six years ago again, who was never even your girlfriend, who you left Echo for as soon as you realized she’d be coming home? That you don’t remember having sex with her. Or moving in with her. Or loving her. Or laughing with her. Or anything about your life with her. I bet you remember having sex with Clarke, even though it was just once.”

He took a breath to say something and then stopped. What could he say?

“But you remember nothing of Echo. How would that feel if your boyfriend of a year, who lived with you for six months, didn’t even remember a thing about you?”

“Fuck no. That’s horrible. Wow. What the fuck. Poor Echo.”

“You are one messed up dude.”

Bellamy could only agree. The two of them sat there in silence for a while. It was companionable. Ever since the accident, everyone was trying to get him to remember. Everything was work. Just existing was work. Here with Murphy, it was just two guys, drinking a beer. Staring off into space.

“When did you get so smart about feelings, Murphy? You weren’t like this before.”

He snorted. “I’m a messed up dude, too. And I had to get some serious thinking done when Emori left me. I couldn’t lose her. But it wasn’t about her. It wasn’t even about our relationship. It was about me. It was about what I thought I deserved… or didn’t deserve.”

Bellamy was impressed. Six years had treated Murphy well. They sat like that for a while and when Bellamy finally spoke, he surprised himself.

“I’m going to get her back.”

“Who? Echo? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“No!” The very idea felt wrong. “No. Clarke. I’m going to get her back.”

“You never had Clarke, dude.”

“I know we weren’t together, but we were. She loved me. I know she did. And I still feel exactly the same way. It didn’t even go away like everyone has been trying to tell me it had. I knew it. Because this connection, our connection, this is… true. She doesn’t believe me. She spent six years thinking I hated her.” The words hurt to say.

“You did hate her, Bellamy. You hated her almost as much as you loved her. You were so angry that she could leave like that. You were such a wreck. No one could straighten you out. You were self destructive. Sleeping around. Drinking too much. And such a bitch. Echo helped with that. You did let it go. You lived your life. Until she came back.”

“But she didn’t leave. She’s right here.”

“She did leave. You just don’t remember it.”

“It turns out, I’m not going to hold a grudge for the pain she caused me that I don’t remember. Because here she is. And she’s here. She’s mine again. And I’m not going to lose her again.”

“You think this is a re-do? Like you can just hit the reset button?”

Bellamy grinned. “Yeah.”

“Life doesn’t work like that.”

He laughed. “It does for me. I woke up and it’s six years ago. And I’m back in the same apartment, living with the girl I’m in love with.”

“She’s got a daughter now. And a career. And six years you don’t remember.”

“And she’s not going anywhere. She’s BACK. To stay. She has a career here. And a DAUGHTER.”

“She’s not in love with you anymore. She remembers those six years. She’s over you.”

“You think?” He cocked his head. “I was an ass to her when she came home. Everyone says so. Even her. I barely talked to her.”

“No shit.”

“But she’s here. She’s holding my hand. She took a leave from her new job to take care of me. She let me back into her apartment with her daughter. She let me back into her life. After six years of not talking to her.” He felt his smile grow. It was something like hope. “She still loves me.”

“Holy shit. She still loves you.”

“I get a re-do. I’m not going to mess it up again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coincidentally, my daughter's favorite singer is Shawn Mendes. no disrespect intended. it was just double preteen fangirl AND The 100 guest appearance. Bellamy tries to avoid the the adolescent girl stuff. 
> 
> maybe not coincidental. as she is also a the 100 fan.


	3. With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy still doesn't remember the last six years of his life. But for six months, he's been living with Clarke, and... there's no other way to look at it-- courting her. 
> 
> Clarke resists. Because he doesn't remember what happened. Or how much he used to hate her. But it's so hard to resist and it's gettig harder.

“Bellamy…” Clarke didn’t like the whine in her voice, but Bellamy grinned at her from his corner of the couch, with the morning sun hitting his skin and turning it into molten bronze, his eyes a warm whiskey color, and she didn’t much care about anything anymore, but being there, with him. “Come to this new therapy. You’ve been doing so well, but I think this might really help you recover the memories you lost.”

But he laughed, his voice deep and resonant and hitting her right in the gut. No. Lower. It did things to her. “You just can’t handle not being in control of everything.”

She shook her head and tried to speak but had to clear her throat first. “That’s not it.” Now her voice was weaker than she liked. Because his presence had taken her breath away and she couldn’t let him know that. Her resistance to him was already too low. She couldn’t give him the advantage of knowing how he affected her physically. 

“Sure it is.” He slid closer to her and moved out of the beam of light. That should have helped, but it didn’t. Because now she was overwhelmed with the strength in his broad shoulders, and the musky, cinnamon smell of him. “You want to get into my head and unbury all my secrets.”

She had to swallow. “Helping you recover your lost memories is not unburying your secrets.” 

Maybe he could already tell how he was affecting her physically. He grinned and caged her in, one hand on either side of her on the back of the couch. “If I become your patient, isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

She could not breathe. “It’s not…I’m… it’s not my study. I’m just part of the clinic.”

“So you have no interest in me outside of…” his eyes glanced at her mouth and then back up at her eyes. And he smiled. She melted. “…Therapy?”

“Bellamy…” it was a whisper this time. And she heard her own longing in it. 

She knew what he wanted and the he knew she wanted it, too. But she couldn’t. Not while he didn’t remember how much he had hated her for leaving. She couldn’t go through that again. She was always terrified that he’d wake up one morning and remember that he wanted nothing to do with her. Then what would she do? Losing him after getting him back?

“What do you want to know, Clarke?” His voice was soft, intimate. He let one finger trace her cheekbone. So lightly. “I’ll tell you what you want to know. I haven’t hidden how I feel about you.”

She sighed. No. He had hidden nothing. He was still Bellamy from six years ago. And he’d told her all the things he wished he’d told her then. He said it was a second chance. It was hard to deal with, because she wanted it. 

She wanted that second chance. But that wasn’t how life worked.

She loved living with him again. She loved getting him back, back like before she’d left. She didn’t regret leaving. She had wanted to go to school, and if she hadn’t gone, she never would have met Madi, she’d never have become a mother. But she regretted how it had ended with Bellamy. She regretted how she left it. If she hadn’t slept with him before she left, if she hadn’t been so selfish, he would never have been so hurt. He would never have felt so betrayed. So she wasn’t going to make that same mistake again. She would not push it. She would be patient and respect his heart. And resist.

It was so hard. Not only was he her best friend again, but he was… there was no other word for it… he was courting her. He’d buy her little gifts. Record her favorite shows. Make her delicious dinners. He’d walk with her whenever they went out, alone, as a group, with Madi. Whoever. His attention was turned to her. And he smiled. He smiled at her all the time. The very thought softened her heart. 

He was everything she’d ever wanted and she knew it. She couldn’t be as selfish as she had been six years ago. She wouldn’t ruin it again. She had him back now, for as long as she could keep him.

He’d been living with her for six months now, and he was doing so much better. He was back teaching. He was laughing. Their friends would come to them, now, instead of him going out. His sister was home. Everyone was taking care of him and he was doing really well. But those six years were still a blank.

“It’s not what you know, Bellamy. It’s what you don’t know.”

“What do you want to tell me? What do you think I should know.”

She couldn’t look at him. She closed her eyes against the tears that wanted to well. “I want to tell you that you don’t love me. That was six years ago. You don’t anymore.”

“I do. I love you, Clarke. So much.”

It hurt to hear. He’d stopped saying it, because it made her sad. But she opened the door, hadn’t she? So there it was again.

He shifted and pulled away from her. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you don’t remember.” She opened her eyes, but didn’t look at him. She looked at her hands clutching her knees.

“I think you don’t want me to love you. I think I hurt you, and you’re afraid of me doing it again.”

“I left you, Bellamy. I’m the one who moved away.”

“And then I lashed out at you like an asshole. I pushed you away.”

“Because you were angry. And then you moved on because… because you got over me.”

“Did you?” 

Clarke’s heart started beating faster. There are things she hadn’t told him. Things that would have done no good to him, when he was trying to recover his memories. Things that were about her, and she recognized that. Not about him. But about what she had let go. What she knew she had no right to now. “Did I what?”

“Did you get over me?”

Her mouth fell open and she stared at him. What was she supposed to say?

“Because you never said it. You never wanted to talk about it. You were afraid after Finn and Lexa and all the things we’d been through. But I think you loved me, Clarke. Before you left. I think that’s why you left.”

“It was for school, Bellamy…” It was a weak excuse.

“Sure. That’s what you said, but I think you looked for a school so far away because you were afraid of your feelings. For me. And I think that’s why I was so mad. Because you loved me. And you left me anyway. Because I wasn’t important enough to you to try to be with.”

“Did you remember?” Her voice was small. She didn’t like it. She should be strong and calm, like a therapist. But this was Bellamy. And he thought she didn’t care.

“No. I’ve just been thinking. Thinking how I’d feel if you weren’t here now. If there were a hole in my life where you once were. And how I’d feel abandoned.”

He thought she abandoned him. 

And she had. She felt her lip tremble. She had loved him. And left him. And he had hurt so much and pushed her away. And she had never. Ever. Gotten over him. For six years, she’d gone on, studying and learning and becoming Madi’s mom and surviving, day to day. She’d had a good life.

But she loved Bellamy the entire time, and she had never let go of that. She couldn’t put that pressure on him. Not with his fragile state.

She pushed off of the couch. She couldn’t face him. What she’d done to him and what he’d done to her and how tightly entwined they both were, when he was just trying to heal. “Bellamy…” She backed away, not looking at him.

He followed. “Clarke,” he said, and took her hand. Pulled her back to him so she had to face him. “Clarke look at me.” She looked up. He was her Bellamy, and he looked at her with warm eyes, full of love. “You’re here now. You haven’t abandoned me. And I don’t think you abandoned me then either. I get why you left. I get that you were scared and you needed something for yourself outside of love. I don’t blame you.”

“You did, Bellamy. You only say that now because you don’t remember me abandoning you. Because I’m right here.”

He smiled. He brushed her hair back from her face. “Yeah. You’re right here, Clarke. Everything that happened between us, those years apart. Yeah, it happened for you. And you came back. To me. That means something to me.”

“But Bellamy you don’t remember—“

“And it means something to you to, Clarke. I mean something to you. I think you love me, the way I love you. And I think you’re afraid.”

She was. She did. He did. It did. And she wanted to draw him closer. 

A key rattled in the lock and Madi came tumbling in with Abby.

“Mom—” Madi said and then stopped short, looking at how close they were standing, and the way he held her hand, she grabbed at Abby’s arm. “Oh. Grandma, we should go pick up that ice-cream now instead of after dinner.”

Bellamy laughed. “Absolutely not. Dinner’s almost ready.” He was smiling at her. He let go of her hand and ran his palm up her arm, squeezing her shoulder. “Your mom and I can talk later. It can wait.”

Clarke cleared her throat. “Why don’t you get cleaned up.”

Madi rolled her eyes and looked like she was about to resist. 

“Hey, Madi, let me check your essay that’s due on Monday. Gotta see if you’re working up to the standards you showed me when you were in my class.”

“Bellamy…” Madi complained. 

“Let’s go kid.” Bellamy urged her back to their bedroom where her homework was still laid out on her desk. 

Clarke and Abby watched them go before Abby sidled up to Clarke. “So have you made it official?”

“Official? Mom. No. We’re not like that. He’s still.. He’s my friend and I’m not going to take advantage of him like that.”

“Take advantage… What the? Clarke, that man is head over heels in love with you and he always has been. He needs you and you need him. You’re not taking advantage of him.”

“Come on mom. He has amnesia. He still thinks I’m Clarke from six years ago. He’s still Bellamy from six years ago.”

She shook her head slowly. “No. No he isn’t. Bellamy from six years ago was never this patient and kind with you. Oh he loved you, sure. But he was rash and rough and impetuous. He was young and so were you. He didn’t even know how much he loved you. I’m pretty sure he thought it was just infatuation. That he’d get over you. It wasn’t until you left that he realized.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh don’t I? I was still here, Clarke. I may not have spent as much time with him as his friends, but Marcus and I? We’re their family. Octavia and Bellamy always came to my Christmas dinners, and often the rest of your friends.”

“They did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, Clarke, you left. And you didn’t want to talk about him. And it was about my relationship with him, not yours. So I just took care of him the best I could. And I didn’t talk about you with him either.”

“You took care of him?”

“I wasn’t going to leave him without family, Clarke. Just like you couldn’t leave him with no one to take care of him when he lost his memory. This thing between you? This isn’t just a memory. It’s part of who you are. Who both of you are. And this man now? Even without those memories, he’s not the same as the boy you left. He’s different now. He may not remember it, but he’s grown up. The effect of those years is not part of his memories, it’s part of who he is. You can give him a chance.”

“Give him a chance, mom? A chance?” She stepped closer and lowered her voice. She could not have him hear. “I already love him. I can’t help it. I loved him the entire time. I’m TERRIFIED that he’s going to remember how he hated me. Do you know how that’s going to destroy me?”

She sighed and brushed Clarke’s hair back. “He was angry, he didn’t hate you.” 

Clarke made a face.

“There’s a difference, Clarke. He was hurt. All of that? It’s in the past. What you’ve built now is real.”

She wanted to argue with her mother. She did. She wanted to hold onto the worry. The uncertainty. She chewed her lip. “It feels real.”

“I’m not saying you have to do anything you— or he— are not ready for, but you’re allowed to love someone, Clarke. And the thing is… you love him.”

Clarke couldn’t stop her tears from spilling over this time. The suddenness of it was overwhelming. The acknowledgement of her feelings for him all this time, and now. Especially now, that she had him back, after all that loneliness. The thought that she was ALLOWED to love him. That’s what broke her. 

“Hey Clarke!” He said coming into the living room with Madi. “This kid of yours has a great paper on types of government. Way beyond sixth grade—“ He stopped when he saw her teary face. “What happened? Are you okay?” He came right to her, so concerned. It just made the tears flow faster.

“Come on, Madi, come help me set the table.” Abby took Madi by the shoulders and led her into the kitchen, leaving them alone.

Clarke couldn’t look at him. She squeezed her eyes shut and hung her head.

“Hey, hey, honey. It’s okay. Tell me what the matter is.”

She still couldn’t speak. Instead she just stepped into his arms. After a moment of shock, he wrapped her up in his strength and she pressed her face into the spot between his neck and his shoulder and just let herself feel.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I got you.” He ran his hands through her hair, smoothing them along her back and shoulders. Whispering soft comments of care and gentleness, and Clarke found that her tears faded away with his attention and all that was left was the feeling of being loved.

She wasn’t sure how long they stood like that but she finally pulled away from him. He kept his hands on her waist and she held onto his biceps. She really liked his biceps. “Okay,” she said. 

“Okay what? You all cried out?”

She laughed. “Okay I’d like to try.”

He blinked and shook his head slightly. “Try? Try what.”

“I don’t know. Try us.”

His jaw dropped.

“I mean. We’d need to go really slow because you’re still suffering from amnesia, but I trust you. And I believe in you and I…” she wasn’t really ready to say it yet. She shifted. “I never really got over you either.” She figured that was close enough.

The smile that spread over his face was breathtaking. “Really?”

She nodded. Her heart rate picked up. His muscles were so firm under her fingers. And it had been a long time for her. She swallowed heavily. “But not… I’m not ready to go far.”

“So I can’t offer to let you sleep in your bed, yet.” 

She laughed. Because they had had so many arguments about that one. How he insisted that he would sleep on the couch, and she refused to go back to her old bedroom, so after a couple weeks of no one using her bed, and his back starting to complain about the sofa, she had bullied him back into it. But this time, his statement held the unspoken, ‘with me.’ She bit her lip. “No. Not yet.”

“Not yet…” he let his voice make a hopeful lilt and wiggled his eyebrows at her. He made her laugh and he wiped the tears from her cheeks, and then his grin softened. “I’ll wait as long as you want.” He breathed out as if he had been holding his breath all this time. 

She nodded. Because she had waited so long already. Then she reached up to his face, let her fingers trace over his cheekbones, tangled them in his hair and pulled him down for a kiss.

He came to her easily, but didn’t push her, didn’t take over. He let her kiss him. And she did. Her lips brushing his, just barely. Her eyes fluttering shut with how that tiny kiss made her tingle all the way down to her toes. She pulled back, only an inch, still holding him close. He sighed and she felt his warm breath on her lips and almost kissed him again, but restrained herself.

He let his forehead fall forward to touch hers. “I love you Clarke. I always loved you. And I always will.”

She smiled, refrained from arguing with him about how he couldn’t know that. “Okay,” she said. And it was.


	4. Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Clarke and Bellamy's first real date, now that she's decided to give them a real try as a couple, even though he DOESN'T remember the last six years of his life, doesn't remember how he hated her. And it's perfect.  
> Until they run into Echo in the park.

Bellamy folded up the blanket while Clarke packed the last of their food back into the basket. The last band had played, and they were letting the crowds at the jazz festival thin out before they made their way back across town to their apartment. She’d finally agreed to go out with him. Their first official date. Madi was even spending the night at Abby’s house, not that Bellamy was intending to go any farther, but he liked the idea that he got to take her home, and their date could continue. 

Bellamy was happy. Slightly buzzed from the wine they’d been drinking from plastic cups, and the music that he still felt in his bones, and the nearness of Clarke Griffin, who had leaned her head against his shoulder as they lay back and listened. “Hey,” he said, fighting his smile. “Thanks for agreeing to come with me, Clarke.”

She closed the basket and stood up, coming up to him, right up to him. She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and cocked her head. “You deserved it for putting up with me,” she said and licked her lips.

“You’re a little buzzed too, huh?”

She laughed huskily. “Not really, Bellamy, I’m just really happy. I’m glad we waited to date, and are taking it slow, but…well…” and then she pulled him down and kissed him.

He smiled and pecked her lips, but she was having none of it and pressed into him with her hips, licking the seam of his lips until he opened, and she deepened the kiss. He dropped the bag with the blanket and wrapped both of his arms around her. “Clarke,” he murmured against her lips.

“Mmhm,” she hummed and kissed him harder. It was hard to keep his hands to just her waist. She ran hers up and down his back, slipping them under his shirt.

“Fuck, Clarke, we’re in the middle of a park surrounded by people.” 

“Mmm, good idea. We should go home.”

That shocked him out of the kiss. “You are definitely drunk.”

Clarke laughed and let her arms cradle his shoulders. “I’m just happy, Bellamy. And I just want to be alone with you…I don’t know how far I want to take it, I just want to be with you because…” she took a deep breath then looked him straight in the eye. “Because I love you.”

Bellamy’s heart stopped. “Yeah?” He’d known. He had. It was in everything she did, the way she took care of him and the way she looked at him, the way they talked, the way she cared. But it meant everything to know that she was certain enough of him to commit to the words. To say them. “And you’re okay… you believe me, even though I still don’t have all my memories back?” They’d been slowly coming back, bits and pieces, nothing all that important, but mostly it was all just. Fog. And she was willing to keep trying. Together.

She nodded, biting her lip and grinning. Her eyes sparkled. 

His fingers flexed on her hips and he pulled her against him. “I love you, too, you know.”

“I know,” she said and her words were full of giggles. He kissed them. She giggled more and she put her fingers up to stop him. He kissed her fingers. “Bellamy…” she whined, trying to stop from laughing.

“It feels good to say it, doesn’t it?”

“It does. I’ve been holding it back.”

“I know,” he said and it was true. He’d been watching her struggle. But the words sobered her and her smile fell. “I love you, Clarke, and it’s not going away, okay? It’s real. We’re real.”

She made a helpless noise in her throat. 

“Trust me. Even when I remember what happened, I won’t love you any less. Okay? Let’s just go home.”

She nodded and bent to pick her bag up again. “We had a good date, Bellamy. I want to do more of these.”

“You’ve got a deal.” He grabbed her hand and they headed out of the park, but they’d only gone a few steps when Bellamy was brought up short.

“Echo?”

Clarke clung to his arm.

There was Echo. His ex girlfriend. Right in front of him.

“Bellamy…” she said, a sing song voice with no apparent hostility, although he knew that tone of voice, he knew it very well, and it was judging, and finding him wanting. “How are you?”

Clarke let go of his arm and stepped away from him. 

“I’m good. You remember Clarke? From six years ago.”

“Vaguely. She didn’t stick around.” Yep. Same old Echo. She was always rather passive aggressive.

“She’s home now,” he said, and pulled her back into him, wrapping her arm around her waist so she couldn’t run away. Her hair was hiding her face.

“And you’re dating now?” Echo asked.

“Uh,” Clarke started, “We’re uh… just… not really…”

“Yes. We’re dating.” Fuck. He wanted to take Clarke home and TALK to her.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised should I? No one who was as angry as you were at her could ever actually be over someone.”

Clarke was stiff at his side.

“You know what, Echo?” This was a long time coming, and he’d been avoiding it. “I owe you an apology. You’re right. I never got over Clarke, and I was with you because I liked you and you were fun, and I knew you liked me more than that. I should have been honest with myself, and with you.”

Echo glared, tilting her eyebrow at him.

“I’m sorry, Echo. It wasn’t fair to you. I didn’t love you the way you loved me and I let you think I would fall in love with you. I didn’t mean to lead you on. I wanted to. I just couldn’t. I was a crappy boyfriend, and I knew it was ending when I moved in with you. I never should have done that to you.”

“Oh. So your amnesia is done?” She was tall and slender and seemed more imposing now. She was working it. She pursed her lips. “You remember everything now?”

Clarke was staring at him and for a second he gaped at her. “Not exactly,” he said, “Or I mean. It’s coming back to me.”

He felt Clarke’s fingers clutch at his shirt. Felt her attention focus on him. Felt her want to speak, but knowing this was not the time. He plucked one of her hands out of his shirt and held it in his. He squeezed her and she squeezed back. She inhaled deeply and watched him.

Echo was speaking, but to be honest, he wasn’t paying attention. The feeling of having his memories back was a bit overwhelming. They were just there. As if they’d never been gone, except he had the memory of not having them.

“…I was worried, Bellamy, but I talked to everyone and they said you were being taken care of,” she glanced at Clarke, “so I didn’t have to come by, if I didn’t want to—“ she stopped. “Sorry if I didn’t want to. I knew you were okay. I was finally over you, dating someone new. I didn’t want to start caring again.”

He swallowed. The city went on the way it always had, but somehow, it was brighter than it had been. He pulled Clarke’s hand around so that she would be wrapped around him. The question on her face made him almost smile. But he turned back to Echo.

“No. It’s okay, Echo. I get it. I don’t hold it against you. I didn’t want to be your problem. I want you to move on. I want you to have a good life. I care about you.”

Her eyes darted to Clarke, tangled about him, as if to say he had moved on. But he never had. He’d never moved on. He was trying to with Echo, and it didn’t work. That’s the thing none of them had ever really understood in the last six years, not even him. Now he got it. 

Echo nodded. “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” and they were left with polite goodnights and Echo returned to her friends and Clarke turned to him.

“Your memory is back?”

He let out his breath. “I saw Echo, and everything connected. It just came back. She was in all my memories after you left. Whether I hated her, was getting to know her, or loved her.”

She nodded and pressed her lips together. “Echo was the trigger. Sometimes that happens.” She swallowed and stared at the ground. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Clarke opened her mouth to speak and Bellamy prepared himself. But then she closed it She shook her head. “Not here. Let’s go home. We can talk.”

He nodded, trying to get a read on her, but she was closed. His own head was whirling with the relief of getting his life back, and the incredibly dull monotony of it all. It was just his life. He’s the one who made it. Even when he was distinctly not proud of what he’d done. Like with Echo. And with Clarke. And himself. 

When Clarke started walking, he followed her. He did not reach for her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I googled. It can happen like that. Just poof. back.


	5. Tabula Conferta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy has gotten his memories back, but Clarke is terrified that he will remember how much he hated her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tabula Conferta means "full slate," as opposed to "blank slate."
> 
> Or at least that's what a very intelligent sounding person on some chat board said when I googled what the opposite of Tabula Rasa was.

Bellamy carried all their bags and Clarke opened the door to their apartment. The stupid little elf on the shelf charm jingled on her key ring and reminded her of everything that had happened while they were apart, even though she had tried to resist the fantasy of getting to start all over again, without her mistakes.

She could feel Bellamy behind her in the hall, silent, when she pushed the door open. He was a presence that filled her senses and she didn’t know what to do.

“You gonna go in or are we just going to stand in the hall all night?” 

“Sorry,” she said. “Sorry.” And it was the first word she’d spoken since Bellamy said his memory of the last six years was back. She was a coward. She braced herself and entered the apartment. Because they had to talk. Even though she didn’t want to. She was an adult and she would do what had to be done. Dammit.

But Bellamy didn’t talk. He went past her and into the kitchen. She could see him in there putting away the leftovers from their picnic. Was he just pretending that nothing had happened? Was he avoiding telling her that he remembered how much he hated her? Was he messing with her on purpose? Clarke stood there, by the door, until he came out. He had two glasses of wine in his hands and stopped short when he saw her frozen there.

“What are you…” he said, confused.

She blinked herself into motion. “You’re not supposed to drink so much,” she said. She had been hounding him for months about keeping his alcohol intake down for the sake of his psychological health. She’d rather play the disapproving doctor now than deal with what she was afraid of.

He shook his head. “Not anymore. My memories are back. They’re all back. And I’m celebrating.”

Clarke smiled. “Right.” She ducked her head and wiped at the tears in the corners of her eyes because she didn’t want him to see them. He was better now. She should not be so terrified. He was well. He had healed and this was a good thing. No matter how this turned out for her, if he hated her or if she lost him forever, this was what she wanted. Bellamy Blake, with his memories intact. It was a celebration. She smiled at him and took the wine. “Okay. Sit down. Tell me what happened.” She took his arm, she couldn’t touch his bare skin right now, avoided his hand and went for his elbow as she steered him towards the couch. “Let’s see how far this goes. Tell me what you think triggered your memories.”

He shook his head. “Uh uh,” he said as he sat, and then reached for her hand to pull her down to sit next to him. His hand was warm and dry and it engulfed hers. She was engulfed. “Don’t try to psychoanalyze me. That’s not your job. You are not my doctor, Clarke.”

“Bellamy. This is no joke. You’ve had an incredible break through, we should talk about this. We should deal with it.”

His glowered at her. “No, Clarke. I’ll call my doctor in the morning. You aren’t my doctor. I’m not letting you turn this into treatment. We need to deal with this, but you and I? This isn’t therapy. Clarke. Look at me.”

She hadn’t realized she was staring at that old painting. The one that she’d painted with Bellamy, up on the roof, before she had admitted to herself that she was in love with him, back when life was all soft and beautiful and nothing but good things, with no fear of loss and betrayal and the inevitable doom of love, just happiness, and a life with him where they were together in all things, except for that way. Before she’d decided to run away because the thought of loving him and losing him terrified her. Before she wanted to get what little bit of him that she could have, before she went. Before she slept with him and left him to fly across country with nothing but a note that said, “-C.” Before she’d ruined it all. She’d loved him. And left him. And lost him. And here it was, happening all over again.

He put a hand to her chin and turned her face to look at him. There was no hiding the tears now. 

“Clarke…” he said, sad and gentle. He tried to pull her into his arms, but she resisted. She swiped at her tears and put her hands against his chest, warding him off. 

“Don’t you pity me, Bellamy. Don’t you do that to me. Don’t you look at me with those warm, sympathetic eyes, sorry for the hopeless girl who was so afraid of loving someone she ran away, sorry for the girl who could never stop loving you, even when you got over me. I don’t want to be pitied, Bellamy. Don’t do that to me.”

He laughed. 

She put down the wine, stood up and stormed off, blind with the fresh burst of tears, only allowing herself to breathe when she slammed her bedroom door behind her. And that’s when the sobs overtook her.

“Clarke!” He called. “Clarke.”

She ignored him and slumped back against the door, letting the tears out. She covered her face with her hands. She didn’t know what this meant. Would he leave? Where would he go now that his memories were back? Back to his sister’s? It wasn’t that big a place. Not with Echo, surely. That was done. She’d moved on, right? Unless, he wanted her back, then Clarke had the feeling that Echo would be ready and willing to take him back, with the way she’d glared at Clarke for holding his hand. 

“Clarke!” Bellamy said, through the door. “Clarke, honey.”

“We’ll figure it out, Bellamy.” She called, You can go back to work. You can get your own place now. Everything will be fine. You’re well now. You’ve recovered your memories.” She hoped he could hear her speaking through both her hands and the door, but she couldn’t let go right now. It was all she could do to hold onto her own sadness. “We should take a break. Go to sleep, and call your doctor in the morning.” Of course. Keep everything professional. She could take care of him. As a psychotherapist, and make sure he got what he needed, whether she was his doctor or not. Or his girlfriend. She bit her knuckle to hold back the sob that wanted to come out. But he’d hear.

“Clarke, you’re in my room.”

“What?” She opened her eyes. It was her old room. In her distress, she had fled to her old room. “Oh shit.” It was all her furniture, but it was his blanket, his clothes, his products sitting on the dresser. His books in the case. She opened the door but she couldn’t look at him. “I’m sorry. I was agitated and I didn’t pay attention to where I was going.” She tried to brush past him but he held onto her wrist.

“Don’t go, Clarke.”

She stopped and stood, her head hanging. Afraid. So afraid. She couldn’t hide anymore. “Okay. Tell me the truth.” She had known that it would end this way and she wasn’t even fooling herself about it. She had just decided she wanted to have what she could of him before he realized that what he felt for her was over. She had done it again. “I’m sorry.”

He just stood there and her heart dropped lower and lower as she waited. The longer it took, the more she was sure he was just afraid to tell her he didn’t love her anymore. “Ah, Clarke,” he said, so sad. She closed her eyes. “You really didn’t believe me, did you? You thought I wouldn’t love you anymore.”

“Was I right?”

He brushed her hair back and put one finger to her chin, urging her to look up at him. She took a deep breath and let it out, raising her chin like a challenge. She would face it.

“No, you weren’t right. I was. I told you I was in love with you. I told you I never stopped loving you—“

“You didn’t know that! Your memories were gone!”

His sad smile went crooked. He rolled his eyes. “My memories are back. Clarke. I never stopped loving you.”

“You couldn’t know that! I couldn’t know that.”

“I knew it because love isn’t a memory, Clarke. I knew I loved you because I loved you. Because every dream I had was with you in it. Because my instinct was to pull you close. Because the first person I wanted to talk to every morning was you. You’ve been my life for so long.” He took her hand. He took both her hands in his and looked into her eyes. She couldn’t look away. “Even when you weren’t here.”

“But- but Bellamy, you hated me. I betrayed you. I left you. And you hated me.”

“I know I did.”

“See!”

“I tried to hate you. I tried so hard. But I was just trying to convince myself that I didn’t love you when I knew all along that I did. So much it scared me.”

She shook her head, wanting to wipe the tears from her eyes but he was holding on to her hands and wouldn’t let go. The tears spilled over and fell down her cheek. “You wouldn’t talk to me. For six years, Bellamy. It was like a hole in my life.”

“Guess what, Clarke. That wasn’t about me hating you. That was about me being an asshole and wanting to hurt you.” His jaw twitched. He closed his eyes as if he could refuse the memories. “Those are the memories I’m getting back. How I cut you out of my life and made everyone take sides because I was angry, and vengeful.”

“I hurt you.”

He nodded. “You hurt me. So I hurt you back.”

She dropped her head again. “You got over me. That was the worst. That you forgot me and moved on. I lost you. You didn’t love me anymore.”

He let go of her hands finally and put an arm around her, leading her to the foot of the bed where he sat her down, and then sat next to her. He brushed the tears away and smiled sadly at her. He shook his head. “No. I still loved you. And worse. I knew why you left.”

She could barely breathe. “Why?”

“Because you loved me so much it scared you.”

“You knew?” Her eyes locked on his. There was nothing but truth in them. She had no words. He was right. That was why she had left. And he had known. 

“That’s why I was so mad. And because I knew you loved me, I took away what I knew you loved the most.” This time he looked away. “Me,” he said, so quietly she could barely hear it. “I didn’t want to be your friend anymore. I didn’t want to be understanding. I wanted you to miss me. I wanted you to regret leaving me. I wanted you to lose me because I knew it would hurt you. And I slept around because I thought it might get back to you. Did it?”

“A little. At first. I asked them to stop telling me.” Raven had been trying to get her to come back, telling her what a mess Bellamy was. All it did was make her feel worse. Monty had told her stories of what he did like they were a dark secret that she had to know. Murphy was angry, at her and at him, and wanted her to fix it. She made them stop. They stopped. They also stopped calling. Slowly. And she stopped asking. And she lost them, too.

He nodded. “And I started dating Echo to prove to you I could be with someone. For real. That I was…better than you.”

“Bellamy.” It hurt. It still hurt.

“But there was a problem.” His mouth twisted bitterly. “The more I learned how to just BE with someone, to date Echo and love her and care for her and be her boyfriend, the more I wanted it to be with you.”

“What?”

He dropped his arm from her shoulders, clenching his hands between his knees. This time he wouldn’t look at her. “I don’t know. Maybe being with Echo was good for me. Not being so angry all the time, letting myself just have fun and let someone in. Forgetting my pain. Forgiving you for leaving because you had to do it. And when I was left, without the anger, what was left behind was the knowledge, that no matter how scared you were and no matter how you ran from me,” he looked up at her and his dark eyes pierced hers, “that I was a part of your soul. And you loved me. And I loved you.”

She felt her jaw go slack. 

“I never stopped loving you. I was right. But I didn’t remember how awful I was to you. How vengeful and selfish. How I was with Echo just to forget you, and all it did was make me remember what we had, and wish I was with you instead of her. And god that was wrong. I couldn’t give her up, because now I was afraid. Because how could I think of being with you when I was as good as dead to you, as I should have been. I hurt you Clarke and I did it on purpose. And I didn’t deserve you. So I kept playing with Echo.”

“You weren’t playing. You moved in with her.”

“I’m not proud of it. I already knew it was wrong. I knew I didn’t love her the way she loved me and I did it anyway because it was convenient. And then, when I heard you were coming home, I dumped her. I dumped her for you. There was no other reason, Clarke. I could have continued being with her and not loving her the way I should forever. It was easy. She was sexy and she was there. That’s what I did. I used her. And I tortured you. And neither of you deserved it.” He huffed a laugh through his nose. “You thought that when I remembered my last six years that I would remember I hated you, but what I remembered, was that I hated myself.”

Clarke shifted and turned to him. “Bellamy…” she didn’t know what she was going to say next.

“You thought the last six years was because of you, Clarke. It was me. I’m the villain in this story. And I knew it. It hurt to see you back here, so beautiful, hanging out with our friends who welcomed you home. So grown up. A mom. Successful. Happy. I knew what I lost. And I saw the way you snuck glances at me, the way you tried to make friends with me, so carefully, as if you had to make up for the horrible things you had done and it was me the whole time. 

“I wanted to reach out to you, but I didn’t know how. I was so used to blaming you for everything, not in reality, not in my head, but in action, in words. I didn’t know how to act around you so I said nothing. I beat myself up every time I saw you, told myself just to talk to you. To say hi to you. To ask you how you were.” He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “And I didn’t know how.”

Clarke was speechless. She didn’t reach out to him. She didn’t know how to, either. She had felt so awkward with him when she came back. Trying to fit back in with her friends and he’d been there the entire time, glaring at her. He was fine with everyone else, even Madi, but with her, he’d refused to meet her eyes, avoided being alone with her, grunted out monosyllables where once upon a time they had spent all night talking and laughing and never running out of things to say. Her room was full of him now, her life was, but when she first came back it had been so hard. She had made such slow strides in getting to know him, and she had thought, maybe, he would stop hating her, he would let her in again, when he’d gotten in the accident and she almost lost him for good. “We… we were starting to be friends again, before your accident.”

He laughed, like it was a surprise. “Yeah. Yeah we were. We were starting. You wouldn’t let me hide. And your damn kid kept dragging me back to you.” He laughed again and wiped at his eyes. Now he was the one tearing up. “That accident saved me, Clarke. It let me start all over again without all those things I regretted doing to you. Everything else was working out, but this one thing, the thing that was the most important to me… you… I ruined it and I ruined myself in doing it. I destroyed us, on purpose. And now I don’t know how you can have me back, knowing that. I don’t deserve to have you.”

Clarke felt a wave of relief. The weight of the last six months, no the weight of the last six years lifted.

“What—what are you smiling about?” Bellamy sat up and glared at her. “Did you not just hear what a monster I am.”

She laughed. The smile would not go away. “Thank god,” she said. 

“Thank god I’m a monster? Doctor Griffin, we have to talk about your bedside manner.”

Clarke tackled him back onto the bed and kissed him. He held her by the hips, helpless as she pressed her lips against his in joy. She pulled back, leaning above him with her hands on either side of his head, and smiled at him because she couldn’t hold it in.

“What the hell is happening here. You get that when my memories came back I remembered how awful I was to you, right. You should want to dump me now. How I treated Echo? What a disrespectful ass I was? What are you possibly thinking?”

She sighed. “I’m thinking I love you.”

He rolled her off of him so they were laying side by side. “I don’t get it. I’m an asshole.”

“Yeah,” it made her smile again, wider. She couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re an asshole again. You’re whole. You know who you are, you’re not some perfect dream of what we could have been if neither of us had made the mistakes that we made. You made your mistakes, too. YOURS. The ones you deserve. You hurt me on purpose, Bellamy.” She was crying too, but they were happy tears. “I knew you hated me.”

“Not hate, never hate. Angry.”

“You were angry enough to want me to hurt, Bellamy. And that was honest. And real. And awful. You did a good job of hurting me, just so you know. Nothing has ever hurt me as much as leaving me alone without you. I loved you so much.”

“You left me.”

And in his eyes, she could see, finally, the pain that her leaving him caused. She put her hand to his cheek and leaned her forehead up against his, her eyes closing. “I know, that was what I did wrong. That was my mistake, hurting you like that. Letting you hurt me because it was easier than facing you and dealing with it all. Now we can heal. Now we can be together for real.”

“You still want to be with me after you know what I did for six years?”

“I’ve always been dumb when it comes to you. I was dumb when I left. I’m ready to be dumb now I’m back. Now you’re back.”

“We’re both back.” 

“Yeah.” She kissed him, softly.

“We’re doing this then? Still. You still love me. I still love you. We’re together.”

“Now I know. Now YOU know. I feel like the other shoe just dropped.”

“And it doesn’t bother you? What I did?”

She had to stop and think for a minute. “No. It does. A little. But it was so long ago. And it’s not like I didn’t know you hated—“ he gave her a side eye, “know you were furious at me, that you were lashing out at me. I didn’t know that was you still loving me.” She chewed her lip. He had been doing it to her on purpose, and she had always thought he had. It didn’t make her feel like he was the dick, it reinforced her belief that she had torn his heart out and ruined whatever they had. But maybe it wasn’t ruined. Maybe they were just two broken people trying to put themselves back together. She looked at him, wondering.

“I won’t, Clarke. I won’t do that again. I learned better. I learned to be kinder. It was wrong and I wished I could go back and change it, but I couldn’t figure out how to. Then came the accident and I was free of myself. I think I didn’t want my memories to come back. I think I knew, somewhere, the fucked up shit I did, and I WANTED to start over. The memories were gone but the feelings were there and I didn’t want to know. I wanted a blank slate. I didn’t want to be that guy. I wanted to—“ Clarke put her finger to his lips.

“Shh. We get to try this for real now. Not a blank slate. Not forgetting what happened. It was so hard to not just let you love me, to not get that do over, but this is better, Bellamy. We’ll struggle and we’ll fight, but we know who we are. It’s better. It’s real.”

“You believe now, then. That I love you. That it won’t go away.”

“I believe you.” He kissed her but she pulled back. “But this is what I wanted, Bellamy. I want the ugly parts of you, too. I want all of you. The fears and the regrets and anger and the stupidity. I have them, too. I don’t know what will happen, but I know I love you, and I believe that you love me too.”

“And we can do this.”

“I’ll tell you what we can do,” she said, and bit her lip, looking up at him through her lashes. She started unbuttoning his shirt.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Why, Clarke, I think you’re trying to have your way with me.”

She couldn’t help the giggle. “I am. And then I’m sleeping in your bed and waking up with you in the morning.”

“Our bed?”

She slipped her hands underneath his shirt and around to his back. He was so soft. Like velvet. And warm. With the hard steel of muscles underneath. She shifted so that she could feel his weight on top of her. “Yeah. Ours. I want to be with you, Bellamy. I want to be together.”

He caressed her collarbone. “Will Madi be okay with that?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding me? She’s been trying to get her room back to herself for months. She never saw why I was sleeping in her room instead of with you in yours.”

“I must admit I never saw the reason either.”

“Yes you did.”

“Okay, you’re right.” He kissed her pulse. Bit it just slightly. “But I wanted it anyway.”

“You get to have it now.”

“My reward for getting my memories back?” He slid his hand down her thigh, and hiked up the hem of her skirt. She tangled her fingers in his hair.

“We would have gotten here anyway. Maybe even tonight. I think you fail to recognize how in love with you I am.”

He pulled back to look at her, seriously. “Really?”

She nodded. “If your memories had come back slowly, I would have been here for it. If they never came back. I would have been here for that too. We were building a life. I loved you six years ago. I loved you without your memories. I was willing to work on it.”

“But you’re happy I know what a dick I was.”

“Yeah. I am. I’m sorry. It sounds… vindictive, but it’s not. I like you better like this.”

“Am I different? From before I remembered?”

It was Clarke’s turn to pull back and Bellamy rolled off of her, laying on his side with his head propped up on his hand as he waited for her answer.

She nodded. “It’s like you know yourself again. You make the connections to things that weren’t there before. I can see your anger at me now, it’s still there, even if you say you’re over it. But you get to be angry at me. And I get to be angry at you. It’s like you know ME better. And I don’t know how, because I was across the country.”

“Yeah, about that,” he said. He let his hand stroke her belly through her dress. “I kept up with you. The whole time you were gone. The guys wouldn’t tell me about you, but I stalked your social media. I checked on you every day. Facebook, instagram, twitter.”

“Bellamy!” Clarke didn’t know why that shocked her more than when he said he’d lived his life for years just to hurt her. 

“I just needed to know you were okay, and I needed no one to know that I needed to know it. You were so sad when you first got out there, and I thought you deserved it. Because I was too. But you kept working on school anyway, like you were hunting wild panthers single handedly in the jungle or something. You wouldn’t let anything take you down. And then when you met Madi? I loved her right away for making you feel less alone. I’d stalk your social media, find out what you did, if you were happy, how school was, and then I’d go out and get drunk and find a girl to take home. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? We weren’t together. I left you. I broke your heart.”

“And I broke yours.”

She shook her head. “No, I broke mine, too. You aren’t the only one who was dumb.”

He nodded. Looking at her seriously, and then turned his attention to his hand on her stomach. His fingers curled around her ribcage, until he was holding onto her. “So what you’re saying is that we’re both dumb, angry, and broken.”

She nodded. “And that we belong together.”

He smiled, biting his lip. “Yeah. I think we do.”

“And that’s the you who has all your memories, huh?”

“The me who remembers everything, including what it was like to not remember.”

“I love you, Bellamy.”

He took a deep breath. Relieved. And everything that had happened between them, when they were apart and when they were together, was a part of it. “I love you too, Clarke.” He smiled. Then he kissed her, and it was like coming home. 

“What’s the matter?” She asked, when he pulled away, when his hand went back to gently stroking her hip.

“Is it okay if we don’t have sex tonight? I know you’ve been waiting…”

She laughed, just a little bit. “It’s okay. We probably should let you process this all before we push this any farther.” She cupped his face and let her thumb caress his cheekbone. “I kind of just want to be with you. Lay here in your arms. Talk. Sleep. Wake up in the morning and have coffee and waffles and wait for my mom to bring Madi home. That’s what I want.”

He smiled and lifted her arm so she could tuck into his side. “Mm, yeah. I want that too.”

“All this time you’ve been trying to get me to go all the way, and when you get your memory back, now it’s your turn to want to wait?”

“I know, it doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, it does. It makes a lot of sense. We have time, Bellamy. I’m not going anywhere. We can figure out each step as it goes.”

“I’m not going anywhere, either. This is it. You and me. Together.”

“Finally.” 

In the end, Clarke did go somewhere. She went to Madi’s room to grab her comfy t-shirt and shorts, and when he’d brought their wine glasses to their bedroom, she grabbed some chocolate. “We didn’t have desert,” she said, while he grinned at her and lifted the blankets up for him to climb in with him. They listened to music and talked and finished their wine and kissed and they fell asleep in each other’s arms, and it was the first night of the rest of their life together.


End file.
